


以前 | 现在 (Then | Now)

by Vai_should_be_quiet



Series: 동쪽의 충돌 (Clash of the East) [1]
Category: B.A.P, Dreamcatcher (Korea Band), GOT7, NCT (Band), SEVENTEEN (Band), VIXX
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mafia AU, Out of Character, That's okay, but I couldn't help writing this, fluff interrupted by angst, from a bigger mafia au I'm doing with all these groups, hopefully I write the whole fic one day, i'm not about to accuse an idol of abusive behaviour, it's all for the story, obviously, so if you're confused, there are so many mentions and such because this is an extract, trigger warning: blood, trigger warning: slightly abusive behaviour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-09 03:30:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14708279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vai_should_be_quiet/pseuds/Vai_should_be_quiet
Summary: The smell of blood was overwhelming. Most annoying part was that it was his blood. Jaw clenched, breathing heavily, BamBam drove down the highway, trying to get to the base as soon as possible.He cursed under his breath, he cursed everyone from Yongguk to Sanghyuk, but especially that psychotic bastard Jongup.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is supposed to be a scene from this much bigger Mafia AU including many groups, it would mostly be told from BAP/VIXX point of view, but some scenes would be told from the point of view of the opposing group (like this one). Disclaimer: this is one of those fics where idols don't behave like themselves in real life, many of these scenes are inspired by MVs where idols act, so it's not really them. I'm saying this because I don't want anyone running to the comments saying "HE'D NEVER DO THIS TO HIM" I know he wouldn't, but that's how his character acts in this story, you have the warnings in the tags, thank you very much.

The smell of blood was overwhelming. Most annoying part was that it was _his_ blood. Jaw clenched, breathing heavily, BamBam drove down the highway, trying to get to the base as soon as possible.

He cursed under his breath, he cursed everyone from Yongguk to Sanghyuk, but especially that psychotic bastard Jongup.

BamBam was getting lightheaded, he was surely in no condition to drive but he had no choice – he was alone and he had to get to the base for any chance of survival. He raced down the roads, breaking many regulations along the way, some of them being the speed limit, being buckled up and keeping his hands on the wheel. The last one was difficult to follow through because every now and again he had to let go and hold his side, even though the pressure he could apply to the wound by himself was minimal.

His arrival wasn’t the end of his worries. BamBam showed his ID to the bored guard at the entrance and was let in. He parked crookedly and quite literally rolled out of his car, landing on all fours. He wheezed, his vision blurring momentarily. BamBam bit his lip harshly, trying hard to regain composure. He stood up on shaky legs, gripping at his side, there was blood all over his hands already.

And the car was new. God damn it.

He dragged himself along the hallways, likely leaving bloodstains everywhere, although that wasn’t such an odd occurrence. BamBam made a mental note to suggest moving the ambulance closer to the entrance.

When he made it there, he pushed the door open with his shoulder and immediately collapsed.

Handong was not perplexed. She was used to such sights, so she wasn’t surprised the slightest bit. However, she was annoyed. She was hoping to end the shift and let Ten stitch up the idiots who got themselves stabbed every now and again. She was supposed to go out that night.

She kneeled by BamBam to inspect the wound.

“What the hell did you do?” Handong asked.

“Stabbed—“ BamBam whimpered.

“Yeah, no shit,” she snapped.

BamBam groaned. Handong didn’t make an attempt to get him up. She stitched him up as he was, on the floor. She managed to stop the bleeding swiftly and she helped him up into a chair.

“Don’t touch anything,” Handong threatened and threw him a towel.

He scoffed and wiped his hands, although it didn’t do much to help his case.

He let a moment of silence pass, and without looking up from his bloodstained hands asked, “Where’s Jackson?”

Handong didn’t show any change in her behaviour or tone, but the compassion was still there, BamBam could tell, “Home. You can wash up here, but don’t think you can hide it from him too long.”

“Thank you,” BamBam s aid, disregarding the last part.

Handong showed her compassion by helping him wash the wound without breaking the stitches, although she acted very annoyed about it. Of course, there was nothing to be done about the smell. It was probably the worst part.

Before sending him on his way, Handong added, “Try to lie low for a while. Don’t make sudden moves or the wound will reopen. So, tell Jackson: no sex tonight.”

BamBam grinned maliciously and Handong returned it.

He didn’t feel like going back to his car, he thought it would make him sick. Instead he paid off one of the younger soldiers to wash it and begged Minghao to give him a lift.

He was so persistent that Minghao gave up in the end and drove him home.

He tiredly made his way inside and whinily called out to his boyfriend. BamBam found him in their room and immediately felt better after seeing him.

Jackson in his home edition was possibly the best thing in the entire world. With recently washed, fluffy hair, engulfed in a soft hoodie, he looked absolutely huggable.

He smiled and waved, “Hey babe! You look tired... Where’ve you been?”

BamBam shook his head and dragged himself over to the bed, but before he could sit down Jackson placed his hand on BamBam’s butt and pushed him off.

“Hey, hey, don’t sit on the bed in your dirty clothes! Go change!”

BamBam groaned and rolled his eyes. “Dumbass,” he complained, pouting.

Jackson stuck out his tongue before going back to typing away on his laptop.

This was one time when BamBam was glad not to have his undivided attention. He didn’t want Jackson to see the wound.

He couldn’t shower by himself; thankfully he’d done that at Handong’s. So he just changed into his pyjamas, which consisted of Jackson’s long sleeved shirt that he hardly wore and some shorts.

He crawled into the bed and this time he was accepted by Jackson.

He put away his laptop and wrapped his arms around BamBam and immediately went for his neck, pressing kisses to the exposed skin. Not that BamBam was complaining, it was sort of the purpose of wearing that particular shirt anyway – it was stretchy, so it slipped off of one shoulder easily.

BamBam was just starting to relax, playing with Jackson’s hair contently, when he said,

“You smell like blood.”

BamBam froze momentarily. Well, he should have seen it coming. But he still couldn’t say anything because he hadn’t thought of a good cover story. So he just curled up more and hid his face in the crook of Jackson’s neck.

“Tell me at least if it was your blood,” he insisted.

BamBam nodded, a small movement that Jackson could only detect because of their proximity.

“Who did that? What happened? When? Are you okay?”

BamBam sighed. “I’m fine. I just got stabbed a little, that’s all. Handong fixed it. Oh and she said that we can’t have sex for a while because the stitches will break.”

Jackson was too worried to laugh, the most he managed was a faint smile. “Well, what happened?”

BamBam almost panicked. He needed to think of something, quickly. “Luhan sent me on an errand,” he said. “Nothing major, but I ran into some trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?” Jackson asked in a gentle voice, playing with BamBam’s hair.

“Just... A few people, I think they’re a part of some small gang on the west side. I was outnumbered.” He didn’t like this amount of questioning. It could have meant that Jackson had caught on, but BamBam wanted to think positively.

Thankfully Jackson said nothing else. He lazily kissed BamBam’s neck, tracing his side. His hands were cold and BamBam shuddered at every touch. He was tense because Jackson’s hand often got too close to the wound.

“Now why don’t you tell me what really happened?” Jackson said in the calmest voice.

He didn’t stop playing with BamBam’s hair, but he had stopped with the kisses and his other hand was now rested steadily on BamBam’s hip. Jackson had pulled away and was now staring the other down with an unreadable expression.

“What, you thought I wouldn’t catch on?” He said, since BamBam had stayed quiet. “Baby... I know you. I know exactly the kind of fighter you are. I know that some random gang could not fuck you up this badly. I also know that you’re not stupid and you know when to walk away from a fight. Above all I know that your story is paper thin and you can’t lie to me.”

BamBam wasn’t looking up and for that split second Jackson snapped and pulled on his hair to force his gaze up.

“Where were you really and who were you with?” Jackson hissed.

In that moment one fact became evident, something BamBam knew even before but didn’t want to acknowledge – at the moment it wasn’t safe to reveal the whole truth to Jackson. It had the potential to be catastrophic if he misunderstood it, which he surely would.

BamBam closed his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek when his hair was pulled. His best bet right now was to act innocent, to push his version of the story until Jackson gave up.

“Fine! Fine, I... I ran into Bang Yongguk, Cha Hakyeon and their groups...”

It was Jackson’s turn to freeze. “What were you doing that far north, baby?” He asked, voice ice cold.

“I told you, Luhan—“

“Yeah, and what’s the real reason you went? Stop lying!”

BamBam squirmed uncomfortably. He felt Jackson squeezing his waist and it made the wound ache. He was starting to worry about the stitches.

Jackson’s eyes were wild, his grip tightening by the second. “You’re hiding something.”

BamBam’s eyes watered from the pain. “Jackson—You’re hurting me—“ He said breathlessly.

This was when Jackson stopped and let go of BamBam. Jackson had moved almost completely on top of him and was holding himself up by gripping the bedpost. This way BamBam could clearly see him shaking with rage.

And it was terrifying because BamBam had never seen him like that. Ever since they’d met, Jackson had been nothing but kind.

BamBam closed his eyes, taking deep breaths as he felt the pain slowly withdrawing.

When he opened his eyes again, he wasn’t delighted to see Jackson glaring down at him. BamBam saw only one way to fix this, even though it was risky. He returned the look, hoping that he didn’t look as scared as he was.

He carefully reached out and cupped Jackson’s cheek; it gave him a little confidence that he didn’t pull away. “I’m not hiding anything,” he lied. “I love you so much, I wouldn’t do anything behind your back. It hurts how little trust you have in me when I’d trust you with my life.”

Jackson was tense another moment, before he slowly started to relax. He wrapped his arms around BamBam and held him close. The other let out a sigh of relief; his plan had worked.

“I’m sorry,” Jackson said in a much softer tone. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, baby.” He stayed quiet for a second, just holding BamBam and playing with his hair. “But we do have to get one thing clear,” he said.

His voice was still soft, his touch still gentle, his lips travelling over BamBam’s skin tenderly, but his gaze was heavy and his words even more so,

“I love you. I love you so much I could die. But that doesn’t give you the right to betray me. No one, and I mean _no one_ , not even you will ever be allowed to ruin everything we’ve worked so hard to achieve.”

“I know,” BamBam said in a small voice. He had no strength to argue, but he was still pissed that Jackson didn’t trust him at all.

BamBam didn’t want to “ruin everything they’d worked so hard to achieve.” He had been a part of it, not as long as the others, but he had. He cared just as much as Jackson, or Handong, or Ten, or Minghao or anyone else did. He hated these accusations. He may not have been telling the whole truth about this particular case, he may have been trying to hide the fact that he was the one to seek out N and Yongguk. But he was only doing it because Jackson would never understand – and because he’d been withdrawing information in the first place.

To BamBam it was a simple scouting mission gone wrong; there was supposed to be no contact, but he had been reckless. It was an accident. Jackson would never believe it.

Being a spy was a nasty business. You betray someone once and no one trusts you ever again. Not even the organisation you are currently working for, that you’d give your life for. Not even the man you loved.

Jackson gently wiped BamBam’s tears and held him close. “I know, I know... I love you, baby, I love you so much. But that’s why I can’t let you run back to your old group. Not you,” he added, much more quietly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” BamBam promised. He clung onto Jackson, closing his eyes. “You have to trust me more. I would never do such a thing to you.”

“You did it to Jongup,” Jackson said bitterly.

_‘That’s why I got stabbed. I deserved it,_ ’ BamBam thought, but didn’t say it. He just broke down crying.


	2. #13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BamBam was running through Gangnam, tears and rain drops streaming down his face.  
> He didn’t speak the language. He didn’t know where to take shelter or in how much danger he was. He’d never gone out of Thailand before then.  
> The last thing he remembered before the crash were the blinding headlights of the car coming his way, the sound of the horn and the smudged neon light in his line of vision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So instead of actually working on this story that I teased some time ago my linguist nerd ass decided to write this piece of backstory about BamBam coming to South Korea. Enjoy.  
> (But the whole story is in the process of being made!!)  
> Please take note of the following TRIGGER WARNINGS for this part: mentions of physical abuse, mentions of sexual assault

As BamBam looked through his closet, he came across something that wasn’t his. It was a worn out, black, leather jacket, the usual biker kind.

He knew exactly whose it was and where it had come from, he only couldn’t figure out _why_ it was still there.

Whatever the case, it was ironic that it emerged now, considering the way things were unfolding.

Slowly remembering why he’d taken it with him, the jacket took BamBam on an involuntary trip down memory lane.

*

When they’d arrived, the sky was completely dark and cloudy. No one had had any idea what time it was; BamBam had tried asking, but got slapped and received no answer.

By the time he made it out, it had started raining.

BamBam was running through Gangnam, tears and rain drops streaming down his face. It took him a while to figure out where he was, he’d stopped only once to catch a breath and saw the sign on the street – he recognized Hangeul on the board, but couldn’t read it, instead reading the Romanization. He started running immediately thereafter, terrified of the men pursuing him catching up. He had no idea where he was going or whom to ask for help. He didn’t speak the language. He didn’t know where to take shelter or in how much danger he was. He’d never gone out of Thailand before then.

He kept running, strangled sobs escaping his throat every now and again. He was completely wet at that point, hair sticking to his forehead, his sneakers soaking in water whenever he stepped into a puddle, his shirt hanging off of his slim frame heavily.

The rain and the tears made it difficult to see. He bumped into many people, most cursing after him but none stopping to wonder what was wrong.

Somehow BamBam mostly ran through alleys and abandoned walkways and this unsettled him deeply. He felt like this way he’d run into more trouble rather than getting any help. However he was out of his mind and therefore could hardly think about these details; not that he knew where to go in order to escape the shady neighborhood anyway.

The street was empty. The only source of light were the neon sign of the exchange office across the street and a broken, flickering light of a lamp post. BamBam ran across the street, not having registrated the red light.

The last thing he remembered before the crash were the blinding headlights of the car coming his way, the sound of the horn and the smudged neon light in his line of vision.

Everything went black.

BamBam was stubborn. He refused to black out. He was panting, coughing and wheezing, doing his best to open his eyes. When he finally did, he found it difficult to keep them open due to the rain and the spinning in his head. He groaned helplessly.

He heard voices. It could have meant that the people who had hit him hadn’t ran away like it was common in his hometown.

BamBam attempted to sit up and immediately felt nauseous. It may have been a concussion, but he hadn’t been feeling too great to begin with so it was impossible to determine.

When he started to fall back, he was startled when he received help, being held upright. He blinked and squinted in the rain, finally seeing the man in front of him. BamBam’s vision was still blurry, but certain things about the man’s appearance caught his eye, like his dark blue hair, piercing gaze and his neck tattoo that looked like a compass.

He seemed concerned. He addressed BamBam in Korean.

BamBam wasn’t sure why, but this was his breaking point. After everything that had happened to him, after all the beating he’d been through, being faced with someone who seemed genuinely worried about his wellbeing, but speaking to him in a foreign language was what made him snap.

He had no way of explaining what had been done to him and he didn’t know how to ask for help.

He started sobbing as if that would help his case at all.

The man before him sighed and picked him up rather easily. BamBam had no strength to fight it.

He wasn’t in the mood to get kidnapped again, but that didn’t seem to be the guy’s intention, which was relieving.

He placed BamBam into the car, thereby shielding him from the rain, but he kept the door open and stayed outside.

BamBam cried until his lungs hurt, shaking violently in the seat. Somewhere through his chaotic, incomprehensible thoughts one emerged; the car seemed really expensive and it was spotless. Or at least it had been until BamBam with his wet and dirty clothes was placed onto the smooth red leather. It made him cringe with guilt, for a split second even thinking that he’d receive a hit for messing up such a nice car.

But the guy didn’t seem to care. He was leaning against the door, waiting for something. Soon there was motion in the car, and BamBam almost jumped out of his skin. There had been someone else inside, in the driver’s seat, but now he was getting out and going around the car.

He appeared beside the blue haired one and BamBam could finally have a look at him. He was wearing a neat black suit and carrying an umbrella. His features were sharp yet kind. He looked at BamBam somewhat compassionately.

Since the two had been the only ones in the car and were both currently standing outside, it didn’t seem like they were planning on kidnapping him. This realization didn’t make him relax, but at least it was some good news.

The men started talking and, not surprisingly, BamBam didn’t understand a thing.

The blue haired one sounded annoyed and worried, while the other spoke calmly and never once broke his perfect posture.

Soon the man in the suit turned to BamBam and again addressed him in Korean.

Having had the time to calm down the slightest bit, BamBam didn’t break down again. Instead, he was able to remember his one option for communication.

“I don’t understand,” he stuttered out in English.

There was a pause before the man responded, also in English, “Are you hurt?”

BamBam wasn’t sure. His whole body ached, his head was spinning, he was cold and nauseous and on the verge of losing consciousness. But thinking back to the past four days, the way he felt now didn’t necessarily have to be consequential of what had just happened. Between not having slept or eaten for those four days, having been hit every time he’d opened his mouth and having had sexual assault attempted on him multiple times by many different people, being bumped by a car came like a cherry on top.

But he had been able to escape and run away and he was still conscious so how bad could it really have been?

“I’m breathing,” he said.

The man gave him a sympathetic look. “What happened?”

Hearing this BamBam started to panic again. His English wasn’t nearly good enough to explain everything that had happened. He was starting to hyperventilate, which the blue haired man noticed.

“Breathe,” he said, getting down on BamBam’s eye level.

Once their eyes met, BamBam couldn’t look away.

The man started counting in Thai, which was oddly soothing to BamBam. When he’d somewhat calmed down, the man smiled faintly and said in slightly broken English, “That’s all I know.”

BamBam was grateful nonetheless. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and looked at the two again.

He did his best to get the point across, “Truck... Gang... Took a lot of people from Bangkok...” His voice faded. He felt agitated because there was much more than that but he didn’t have the vocabulary to explain.

The two men exchanged looks. Then the one in the suit did something that oddly managed to put BamBam at ease, much like the counting had – he smiled.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now. If you’re hurt, we can take care of it. We have a friend who speaks Thai. You can tell him everything and we’ll set things right. Will you come with us?”

BamBam didn’t understand it all, but he made out the most important parts – someone spoke Thai, he was asked to come with and he was safe.

Now, there was no way of knowing if he could trust these men, but what choice did he really have? He didn’t have a better option either. Besides, so far these guys were much better than the gang BamBam had escaped from – then again being better than them wasn’t a challenge.

Thinking that he’d already seen the worst, BamBam decided to simply agree. Unable to answer verbally, he just nodded.

The man in the suit smiled again and said something in Korean to the other, then threw BamBam a gentle look before going to the driver’s side.

The other one with the blue hair then got in the back with BamBam. He took off his leather jacket and wrapped it around the boy.

Almost immediately BamBam started to sway, prompting the other to wrap his arm around his shoulders to keep him upright. The blue haired man said something urgent to the one who was driving.

“Jongup says you have to stay awake,” he said, glancing at the rearview mirror.

BamBam nodded weakly, although he wasn’t sure he could follow through.

Jongup was talking to him in Korean, trying to keep him awake. But BamBam couldn’t hold on any longer. He gave out, dropped his head onto Jongup’s shoulder and passed out.

*

The memories weren’t nice but they weren’t quite painful either. After all, had it not been for the gang deporting him to Korea, BamBam never would have met Jackson.

Of course, he never would have met Jongup either… And the jacket BamBam was holding was a reminder of the painful fact that he still owed Jongup and Himchan his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got questions? Hit me up on tumblr (@vai-should-be-quiet) or instagram (@vai_attempts_art) All interactions are welcome!  
> Feel free to tell me your thoughts in the comments, maybe what you expect of this fanfic to be?


	3. Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't a chapter oops

Hey guys!

Sorry to troll you like this but I have an announcement to make:

I've been teasing this story for a while now and well, _**the prologue is out!** _ The story is called Clash of the East (I suck at titles oops), you can check it out [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14769077/chapters/34155359)! I thought I'd let you know like this cause some of you showed interest so there you go ^^

Thank you everyone for your support, you ecnouraged me to go through with this and get started!


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